


i'm the ghost of my mistakes

by FghtInUs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (real vague. just one sentence at the end), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Suicidal Thoughts, ambiguous timeline, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FghtInUs/pseuds/FghtInUs
Summary: The unconscious mind remembers more than one would think.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Winifred Barnes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	i'm the ghost of my mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from an All Time Low song, Some Kind of Disaster.  
> So no one's irritated with me: this is a dream sequence! It's got a "and then he woke up" sentence and everything.  
> If you feel like it, kudos & comments are greatly appreciated <3

Gravel crunches under Bucky’s boots as he walks up the driveway of a two story house. The house is old and worn, exterior paint peeling and shingles dangling precariously from the roof. The window to the left on the second story doesn't open anymore- maybe it never did. The wooden support beams of the front porch lean slightly to the right. The railing is unsanded, pokey, when he uses it to avoid the second stair. There's nothing obviously wrong with the stair, not to the naked eye, but he still doesn't dare step on it.

The beige front door is ajar, the smell of cooking food wafting out. The screen door creaks when he opens it but he gets the feeling that whatever- whoever- is inside won't mind him. He steps into the foyer, familiar energy thrumming through him. He should know where he is, he feels it in his veins, but he can’t quite name it.

Under his skin itches a feeling he can't place. The green carpet under his feet is new, he thinks. Up the stairs he hears children laughing and stomping around, but when he looks, the hallway is empty. To his left, the living room and kitchen are separated only by crudely hung bed sheets. Pans clatter in the kitchen and it brings a smile to his face and dread to his stomach in equal measure. There's someone in the kitchen, someone who desperately wants to see him, but he can't bring himself to go in there. To face them, whoever they are.

A woman emerges from behind the sheets, humming to an old tune. Her grey-streaked hair sits in meticulous curls, cut just above her shoulders. Bucky never thought he’d see her again, she’d never see him again, he  _ left her _ \- who  _ is she _ \- 

Anxiety and guilt crushes in his chest, sorry to the bone for this woman he can’t remember. He thinks about making a break for the door, to avoid this,  _ avoid what? _ \- but she spots him before he can. 

"James?" she calls, surprise sitting lightly on her features. The laugh lines around her mouth are deeper than he remembers- _ he remembers? _

"Hi, ma," his mouth says.

Her face settles into a warm smile, dusting her hands off on her checkered apron- is that a new tear?  _ How would he know? _

“My boy,” she croons, and his lungs are lead in his chest, waiting for the house around him to shatter to pieces. Waiting for her to disappear.

His ma can’t see the war haunting his skin and crosses over to him, grabbing the sides of his jacket in her hands. “You’ll forgive the mess, you haven’t been home in so long-” The words catch in her throat and her breath hitches, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She tugs lightly on his jacket, staring up at him. Her left hand raises and her warm fingers touch his cheek. He doesn’t get to lean into it, enjoy it, cherish what he’s lost, before her hand rips away from his skin like she’s been burned. 

She holds her arms close to her chest, hunching her shoulders in protectively. “You’re gone, aren’t you?” she asks, voice raw and devastated. 

He goes cold, skin erupting in goosebumps. He tries to speak around the fuzz in his skull, the cotton in his mouth, the bile in his throat. “Yeah, ma. I’m gone,” he says softly, voice breaking. He steps forward and takes her into his arms like maybe he can protect her if he just holds tight enough. 

“Went real fast; didn’t feel a thing,” he promises, tucking his nose into her hair. He wonders if she’s always smelled like this, the sweet tang of citrus and tobacco. The smell makes his chest ache for a reason he can’t identify. “I’m sorry, Ma. I’m so sorry,” he whispers like a prayer. Maybe if he says it enough, time will rewind and grant him another chance. Another chance in a world where he can do better by her. 

Her sobs are wet against his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. She’s so much smaller than she used to be. “My baby,” she says, voice raw and sharp against his broken heart, “I couldn’t protect you.”

Bucky doesn’t get the chance to tell her all the things he wants to say-(I’m sorry, I love you, it’s not your fault, you did all you could, I’m sorry-) -

With no warning, his arms sink through her. He feels her fingers scrabbling for purchase against his back, but she can’t hold onto him anymore. She gasps, hands searching the air where he just was. “James?” she cries, her eyes darting around the room in a desperate search for him.

He tries, works his throat, but no sound comes out. He’s screaming in his mind, desperate for her to hear him, but she stares through him no matter how hard he tries to get her to  _ see him. _

Bucky tries to grab her arm, hold on to her familiar warmth  _ he can’t lose her again- _

His fingers pass through her. Fear buzzes under his skin black spots swim in his vision his teeth ache there’s blood in his mouth  _ please hear me pleasehearmepleasehear- _

Bucky’s eyes snap open, darkness curled in his lungs, around his ribs. His ma’s cries echo in his ears, rivaled only by the violent slamming of his heart. 

It’s just a dream.

He wishes he never woke up.


End file.
